Beach Wedding Read online

  “I’ll do my best.”

  I wave them all off, and stay outside to call Theo. “Tell me you haven’t wrecked my business single-handedly?” I ask, joking. I can hear music and voices in the background, like he’s out partying.

  “I tried to do it in a single day, but I must be sloppy. You still have a few clients left standing.” His voice is teasing.

  “Don’t joke! I feel like I’ve been gone years.”

  “Relax, everything’s fine. The Bankhursts are off touring lakefront gazebos tomorrow, and the DeShawns met with the wedding cake people today. Everything’s on track.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. At least my life back in NYC is still running according to plan.

  “So, how did the big meeting go?” Theo asks eagerly. “Are we a go on the Dalton-Ross-Kincaid extravaganza of classy glitz?”

  “They approved the filming,” I tell him, resigned. “Not just for one episode, either. Marcie’s got her heart set on a whole season of Pixie and Clyde in Pelican Key Cove.”

  “That’s great! And it means you’ll be down there for weeks, right?” His tone turns charming. “And in desperate need of a reliable, extraordinarily handsome, and capable assistant by your side to help things run smoothly.”

  “You’re right,” I tease. “Do you have anyone you know for the job?”

  Theo sighs. “Do you want me to beg? Because I will. I have zero pride, you know that.”

  “Not something to boast about.” I’m enjoying this.

  “You know you need me. Jody and the team here can take care of the rest of business. Please?”

  I laugh. “OK, OK, you can come. I’ll book you a flight—no, wait,” I think of something. “You do want to be useful, don’t you?”

  “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

  “If we’re going to be down here a month, I’m going to need a car. I don’t suppose you feel like driving mine down, do you?”

  “Since when do you have a car?”

  “Since always. I keep it in storage. It’s not practical for the city, but it would be great here.” I feel a little guilty, but he did just beg to help me out.

  “Sure. A road trip could be fun.” Theo doesn’t sound that torn up. “I’ll do it. Just tell me it’s not some beat-up old Honda. I have standards, you know.”

  “Then you’ll love this,” I assure him. “It’s a vintage old convertible.” I leave out the part where it’s bright pink. “Anyway, I’ll be home in a couple of days, we’ll figure the rest of the details then.”

  “Cool-io. And Ginny?”

  “Yup?”

  “Congrats. I told you, this is going to be big!”

  Theo hangs up, and I stay a moment, breathing in the salt sea air. It’s cooler now, thank god, and the shadows of palm trees sway softly in the breeze as the distant ocean crashes against the shore.

  I can understand why Marcie wants to shoot here; it really is a slice of paradise on earth. The only problem is, paradise comes with a whole heap of baggage.

  I head back inside to grab my purse, and see Wes over by the bar. I raise my hand to wave ‘hi’, and then I see Luke standing next to him.

  Our eyes lock. For a moment, he almost smiles; it’s like the past ten years haven’t happened, and he’s catching my eye across the room, ready to send a private look just for me. My heart beats faster gazing into those blue eyes, but then the past catches up with him. His face tenses, the warmth replaced with a cool distance. He looks away.

  I want to flee as fast as my flip-flops will carry me, but I remind myself that I’m an adult now. Running away from the problem isn’t going to make this wedding project any easier. I need to face this head on.

  Bracing myself, I go over to join them. “Hey,” I say brightly to Wes.

  “There she is,” Wes grins. “Congrats on your pitch. You had everyone eating out of your hand.”

  “Almost everyone.” I shoot a glance at Luke.

  “I’m going to get another round in,” Wes says. “Ginny?”

  “Not for me, I’m just heading out.”

  “Aw, come on!” Wes urges, “You can’t just bail so soon. C’mon, one more drink.” He turns to flag down the bartender before I can object, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Hi,” I say quietly to Luke, trying to ignore the sound of my hear thundering in my chest. “It’s good to see you.”

  Luke takes a slow swallow of his beer, and nods. His eyes drift over me. “I heard you were back in town.”

  “It was a last-minute thing,” I say, anxious. “These clients had their heart set on a small-town wedding, and, well, here we are! I wasn’t planning on coming back, believe me.” I give a nervous laugh, but Luke doesn’t crack a smile. Oh boy. “Are you good?” I ask, wishing I didn’t care about the answer as much as I do.

  He gives a lazy shrug. “Can’t complain.”

  “Good.” I say, awkward. “That’s really good.”

  There’s silence.

  I hate this, it feels so wrong to have this distance between us. There was a time when Luke was the person I felt closest to in all the world. We could spend hours together, talking and laughing, or just sitting out in comfortable silence by the beach. But there’s nothing comfortable about the space between us now, and what hurts most of all is the knowledge that I did this. I broke us apart, and there’ll be no fixing that.

  Wes barges back with a pitcher and some glasses. “Hey, you know what I remember?” he says enthusiastically. “You owe me a game!”

  “What?” I turn back, still reeling from Luke’s silent treatment.

  “A game of pool. I was on a winning streak, if I remember right. C’mon, what do you guys say?”

  Luke finally cracks a smile. “Your memory’s getting rusted if you think you ever had a winning streak.”

  “Them be fighting words.” Wes grins,

  “Just try me, old man.”

  It’s clear from their easy banter that Luke and Wes are still good friends. I’m glad, but it’s also a reminder of what I missed, skipping town like that and leaving my life here behind.

  They start to head over to the pool table. I linger back, unsure, until Wes beckons me. “C’mon, Ginny. I’m going to whip your ass too.”

  “Sure,” I laugh, joining them. “You might actually stand a chance. I’m pretty out of practice these days.”

  “No pool hustling up in the big city?” he teases.

  “Not so much.” I take a glass of beer and swallow half of it in one go. I’m definitely going to need some liquid courage to make it through tonight, especially with Luke watching me with those blue eyes of his from across the table.

  “The gang’s all here,” Wes says happily. “Except Jules. You stay in touch with her?”

  I shake my head, and feel another pang of regret. “No, we drifted apart. You know what happened to her?”

  “I see her around sometimes, back for the holidays, that kind of thing.” Wes racks the balls. “We’re going to need a fourth.”

  Luke snorts. “You mean you can’t beat the two of us single-handedly?”

  “Hey, I’m trying to make it a fair fight.” Wes scans the room and sees someone. “Man, I was meaning to talk to Kenton about the Rostra next week. Why don’t you guys take the first match?” Before we can reply, he hands off his cue to me and leaves us to it.

  I silently curse Wes for landing me in a dark corner with Luke. If it was anyone else I’d suspect a set-up, but Wes is way too oblivious to have noticed the tension between us. As far as he’s concerned, everybody’s still the best of friends.

  I look over to Luke. “Do you want to break?”

  He shrugs. “Be my guest.”

  OK then.

  I line up my shot, and break – badly. Luke smirks, and promptly pockets a ball. He runs the table for three shots, then bounces a ball out of the pocket with too much force. “Your turn.”

  I search for something to say, but I come up empty. Why is this so hard?
>
  Because you need to tell him sorry, but you don’t know where to start.

  I focus on my game instead. And the beer. To my surprise, I’m not so rusty. All those years hustling with Jules must have imprinted somewhere on my muscle memory, because by the time Wes ambles back over, I’ve got just a couple of balls left to sink.

  Wes whistles. “She’s handing you your ass on a platter, Luke. You just going to stand around and take it?”

  “No, I figured I’d drink some, too,” he says, easy-going.

  “No early morning at the site?” Wes asks.

  I pause, surprised. “You’re still working construction with your dad?”

  There’s a beat. “Pops passed six years ago,” Luke answers easily.

  My stomach crashes to the floor. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  Luke meets my eyes, but this time he nods sadly. “Thanks.”

  My mind races. I don’t know why my aunts didn’t tell me. Maybe they thought I wouldn’t care.

  Maybe Luke thought so, too.

  “I didn’t know,” I say again. “I’m sorry. He was a great guy.”

  “Yeah, he was.”

  I miss my next shot, and Luke steps up to the table. “So, are you carrying on the company?” I ask, covering my embarrassment with another swallow of beer.

  Wes laughs. “You haven’t heard? Our boy Luke’s gone big-time—oww!” Luke turns, whacking Wes in the gut with his pool cue.

  “Hey, sorry, man. Didn’t see you.” Luke looks back at me. “I’m still working. It’s like you always said, I’d wind up fixing roofs and spending my life with my feet up in front of the TV.”

  I flinch. I remember that fight; we had it way too many times in the end. I was so restless to get out of town, but Luke couldn’t care less. He had everything he needed right here—why would we ever leave? He couldn’t understand my desire to travel and make a life outside of Pelican Key Cove, and I couldn’t understand his complacency.

  Now, Luke makes another easy shot. “So, planning weddings,” he says, changing the subject. “That’s what passes as a job these days?”

  “It is a real job!” I protest. “There’s a ton of work involved: finding venues, sourcing flowers and wedding cakes, choreographing the whole ceremony.”

  “Hey, you don’t need convincing me,” Wes speaks up. “My sister’s getting hitched next year, and I never hear the end of it. Pink or blue, silk or satin. Good for you if you can keep that rabble in check.”

  “I like it,” I shrug, still on edge. “When it goes right, it’s the best day of someone’s life. The walk, the vows, the—”

  “Kiss.” Luke finishes for me. His voice sounds deeper, and I see the memory in his face as our eyes meet again. “You always loved the kiss best of all.”

  The past is thick between us. I catch my breath, feeling dizzy. How many beers have I had?

  “I… I should get going.” I back away.

  “But what about the game?” Wes protests, just as Luke sinks the final ball and straightens up. “Best two out of three?”

  “Sorry, buddy. Another time.”

  Wes sighs. “I’m just delaying the inevitable. Camille’s been puking all over the bathroom.”

  Luke chuckles. “Send my love to Kate.”

  “Will do.” Wes gets his jacket, and I find my purse.

  “How are you getting home?” Luke’s voice stops me.

  I turn, surprised. “I’m walking. It’s not far.”

  “I’m heading that way. I’ll give you a ride.”

  I pause. “Umm, OK. Thanks.”

  He gives a curt nod. “Ready?”

  I follow him out to the parking lot, to a brand-new blue truck. “You haven’t changed your taste in cars,” I say as he opens the passenger door.

  “No, ma’am.” Luke grins just for a moment as he helps me up inside. His smile sparks right through me, as youthful as I remember, but adorning a man’s face now. It warms my whole body, makes my heart beat louder in my chest. Then he seems to remember himself. The smile slips. He slams the door shut.

  I catch my breath in the dark cab as he crosses around. Feeling this way is just nostalgia, I try to tell myself. Muscle memory, like playing pool.

  He gets in and starts the engine. I don't have to give him directions. I can tell he knows the way to my aunts’ house by heart, even though it’s off the beaten path. We must have made this drive a thousand times, sneaking back after my curfew with my hair in a tangle and my buttons done up wrong. We would park in a spot up the coast a few miles, a secluded hideaway in the woods where nobody would see the windows steam up. God, the hours we spent together, learning each other’s bodies by heart.

  He was my first. The only one, I believed, back when I was too young to know any better.

  The silence stretches. I sneak a glance as his profile, silhouetted in the dark. My heart aches to look at him, and I realize that all the excuses I’ve been making to my aunts about staying away these years have been lies. The real answer is right here in this truck.

  Luke.

  I didn’t come back because I was scared this would happen, that time would melt away and I would feel all the emotions come rushing back again. I never could control myself around him. He sparked something in me, something reckless, passionate, and free. God, it’s been one evening, and already I want to crawl across the seats and wrap myself around him. Hold on tight, and never let go.

  But I can’t.

  My heart may have longed to return, but my head knew we would never have made it work. Those fights would have gotten louder, and those resentments would have built to boiling point. I was doing us a favor, I told myself, and I still believe it’s true. But regret? That’s another story, and one I need to share.

  I open my mouth. “Luke.” My voice is shaky in the dark. “I want to explain—”

  “Home again.” He cuts me off, turning down the drive.

  “But Luke…”

  “No, Ginny, it’s fine.” He cuts the engine and looks over, his face set. “It was a long time ago. We were kids. You don’t need to explain anything to me.”

  I exhale, disappointed. Maybe he’s right, and I shouldn’t go dragging up the past. Even though it weighs on me still.

  I go to open my door, but Luke jumps down and comes around to open it for me. I swing out but misjudge the distance, and stumble to the ground.

  “Whoa there.” Luke catches me easily, gripping my arms and pulling me against his chest.

  I freeze.

  The physical contact hits me like a mack truck: the shock of his touch on my skin, the heat of his torso pressed against me. Luke was always in shape, but the years have honed his body to a slab of pure muscle.

  I look up. He’s staring down at me, a tender expression in his eyes. He reaches to brush a strand out of my eyes.

  His fingertips are gentle against my face. I have to close my eyes, take a breath to try and savor the touch, block out everything but this glimpse of the past: Luke Porter’s hands on me, and everything right in the world.

  Then I feel his lips on mine.

  He kisses me softly, like no time has passed at all. His mouth is cool, grazing mine like an invitation, before he eases my lips open and slides his tongue into my mouth.

  My arms are up around his neck before I can hold them back. I press against him, feeling the rush take me over. It’s amiliar and foreign all at once, this heat racing through my body. God, I’ve missed his kiss, his hands, his mouth. For a moment, I’m completely caught up in the amazing feeling.

  Then, suddenly, he wrenches away.

  My eyes fly open, I gasp for air. Luke’s face is set, furious. Without a word, he storms around and climbs into the truck. The engine starts, and he takes off, tires grinding on the dirt road as the headlights disappear into the dark.

  I watch him go, my head spinning. What the hell just happened?

  Chapter Seven

  “And… action!”

  Pixie and Clyd
e stroll arm-in-arm down Main Street, beaming together. “Isn’t this cute?” Pixie is saying, her blond hair curled in perfect messy waves. She’s got Buster trotting beside them, and a bouquet of fresh daises under one arm. “I never got to grow up in a small town like this, but I can just imagine getting married right here.”

  “You know what, babes? Me too,” Clyde agrees. “What the hell, who needs a fancy city wedding when we can do it right here. Whatever my Pixie wants.”

  “You’re so good to me,” Pixie coos. She leans in for a kiss, and—

  Buster suddenly explodes, barking like crazy. He takes off, yanking on his leash, heading straight for the pelican sitting on a fence post.

  Pixie shrieks, loses her balance, and falls right into the flower stand. Buckets of roses go crashing to the ground around her. The flower guy, Mickey, lets out a stream of expletives.

  “And cut!”

  There are groans all around. The camera crew stops filming. Marcie throws down her clipboard in disgust. They’ve been at it all morning, but something’s always getting in the way. First, it was Delilah from the farm, demanding to know why they were using Mickey’s flowers and not hers. Then, the Alpine power-walking group steamed right through the shot, and finally, Clyde broke down in a sneezing fit from his allergies.

  I never knew so much effort went into a few short minutes of TV.

  “Reset for take!” The call goes up, and everyone rushes to help Pixie up and recreate the perfect spontaneous scene.

  “That dog,” Marcie scowls, pushing past me. “If I could wring its little—Pixie! Clyde! That was just fabulous!” She’s all smiles, steering them back into place. “Just once more for the cameras, and then we’ll move on.”

  Pixie frowns. “Buster’s getting tired,” she says. “Can we take a break? I need to sit down for a minute.” She looks around. “Where’s my smoothie?”

  Theo rushes in with a fresh bottle. “Right here,” he smiles. “You had that one nailed. You’re a natural on screen,” he adds, and Pixie perks right up.

  “You think?”

  “Definitely.”

  “I thought about becoming an actress,” she tells him, as the crew cleans up the mess and reassembles the flower cart. “But I can never remember my lines. It’s way easier when it’s like this, and I just have to be myself.”